Twisted Lovers
by spittingllama7856
Summary: They were chained; bound by their pride. They were toeing the line between love and hate. No one else could understand that they wanted the rope burns. No one else could get that they liked the bruises. But no one would say a thing. Drarry, bdsm, pretty vague. Written just because. Read warnings and the a/n. NO SMUT! Just some drabble. M just to be safe. One shot. Pretty dark. R&R!


**WARNINGS: Implied bdsm. Disturbing (however vague) relationship between Draco and Harry. Slash pairing, boy x boy, yaoi, whatever you want to call it. Oh, yeah, and profanity.**

 **A/N: Well, this is the product of my brain shouting "KINKY DRARRY!" after listening to "Sucker For Pain" on repeat. I, of course, had to at least write something. So I sat at my computer and this happened. Whatever** ** _this_** **is… It's really vague. Nothing explicit. It mainly just describes the relationship between the two of them, not the actual details or anything. Kind of poetic. (Also, didn't turn out kinky, at all...)**

 **Whatever I write here, I DO NOT support abusive or unhealthy relationships! I'm not saying that what Harry and Draco are doing is good! They both have warped views on the world, I'm not agreeing with anything!**

 **I didn't get a beta to go over this one, sorry guys. Might be a lot of grammar mistakes! Point them out and I'll go and fix them.**

 **Feel free to tell me how much this sucks. Also feel free to tell me how disappointed you were that there was no smut. I wrote this on a whim. Literally no plan or anything. And go ahead and tell me how offended you are by this or whatever. Leave a review, lemme know what you think. I appreciate honesty, guys.**

 **Disclaimer: I didn't write Harry Potter. I only write some fanfiction… I'll skip my standard "if I did, Harry and Draco would've been together…" spew.**

 **~Blue Rose**

They were chained; bound by their pride. They were toeing the line between love and hate. They couldn't tell what the difference was anymore.

They were complete opposites. But they were somehow so alike. Light and dark. Right and wrong. But Harry and Draco learned a long time ago that there was a grey area, the place that bad people with good intentions fell. The area where good people with bad intentions fell.

They knew it was wrong. They knew they shouldn't have kept coming back. But they did. They couldn't stop, no matter how many times they hurt each other.

Harry was a drug; he occupied Draco's thoughts all the time. He was a storm. Every emotion boiled under the surface of Harry's skin, and Draco had the pleasure of knowing he was the only one that could make them spill over.

Draco was a guilty pleasure for Harry, and he craved the blond. His fingers itched to touch Draco's lithe body. He felt like half of himself was always with Draco. The marks he left of Draco's body were like pieces of his soul.

Harry was like air for Draco. He needed him. Every pent-up emotion he had, everything he thought he gave to Harry. And Harry took it with pleasure, moaning through the pain.

Every time Draco threw his head back, every time Draco bit down his whimpers, Harry told himself it was fine. That this wasn't wrong. That what they were doing was normal. But it wasn't normal. Harry had somehow managed to ignore that fact for the greater part of a year.

Draco gave as good as he got. The scratches, the bite-marks, the bruises, the blood on Harry's body. It just showed Harry he wasn't going to beg. He wasn't going to submit. It was a power-game, and there had yet to be a winner.

Somehow, Harry found himself with the blond every night. It was almost a routine. Slow at first. Then the intensity grew, treading the line between pain and pleasure. But for Harry and Draco, their pain was their pleasure. No one else understood that. And in that, they understood each other.

Draco was ice. He was smooth and impassive. Uncaring and harsh. Harry was fire. He was passionate and invested. Predictable and angry. But they melted into each other in the worst ways possible.

With a single look, Harry could have Draco on him in a second. He could glance at the other and suddenly they were tangled together. It was exactly the same with Draco.

Maybe it was the thrill of the hunt. Maybe it was the excitement in the secret. Either way, it didn't matter. Because it was almost like a business contract when they realized they were in love with each other.

 _"I love you, don't I?" Harry asked quietly. Draco paused his ministrations, setting down the bloody needle he'd been using to sew Harry's skin back up. Harry had insisted he wanted the scars, so he could remember every painfully blissful moment spent with Draco, Harry had said._

 _"I suppose we're in the same boat, Potter," Draco said. He picked up the needle again after Harry nodded, almost morosely._

They knew that they should've walk away. Walked away and forgotten every night they spent with each other. Forgotten how they got all their purposeful scars. But they just _couldn't_.

They couldn't leave each other. They needed the temperament of the other to balance each other out. Some people called Harry a hero, but they'd never seen how ruthless he could be. Draco was the only one that could take it.

Some people called Draco a heartless bastard, but they'd never seen how caring he could be when tending to Harry's cuts. He was the only one who would clean up the mental and physical scars he'd left on Harry; the only one who would ever admit to hurting Harry.

No one else seemed to get it: They _couldn't live_ without the other. They'd crossed the line and couldn't go back. It was all or nothing, and they would never admit defeat. It was a game. A game neither would win as long as they lived. One both would spend their lives playing.

No one else could understand that they _wanted_ the rope burns. No one could get that they _liked_ the bruises. But no one would say a thing.

Who was to judge the Savior's dark tendencies in the new world? And who cared how much blood the Death Eater lost, if it was at the hands of Light?

There is a grey area between Light and Dark. Harry and Draco learned that a long time ago. But no one else had. There was a difference between accepting and ignoring, and it seemed no one else could see that.

Because Harry was the Savior, it was alright that he had some dark tendencies. Who didn't? Draco was a Death Eater, who could be angry at him for helping the Savior along with his pleasures?

Everyone knew it- they just turned a blind eye and ignored it. There was something seriously wrong with the pair of boys who'd been thrown into a war and made it out mostly alive. People needed to learn what happened when cuts were allowed to heal without being cleaned; they got infected.

Sometimes not all bacteria could be killed. Harry and Draco knew that they didn't want it gone. After all… wasn't bacteria more good than bad?


End file.
